


OBEY

by princehadri, whytekatt



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Bulges and Nooks, Dubious Consent, Hypnotism, Incest, M/M, Mind Control, Nooks, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Restraints, Tentabulges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princehadri/pseuds/princehadri, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whytekatt/pseuds/whytekatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gamzee's an embarrassment. He's the most pathetic excuse for a highblood you've ever met. Not to mention, he's corrupting your good name. </p>
<p>Mother fucker needs to be put in his place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	OBEY

_DID YOU THINK I WOULDN'T FIND OUT?_

You stand in front of younger troll while he kneels. His hands are bound behind his back, but beyond that he's free. Not that there's anywhere for him to run.

_DID YOU THINK I WOULDN'T MOTHER FUCKING KNOW WHAT YOU'RE UP TO?_

Stooping down, you look Gamzee directly in the eyes. He sees you but there's nothing within his gaze. It's like he isn't even there. The vacant look would be eerie to you, were your own eyes not a stark marble white.

But within his mind you can feel an irritatingly familiar presence.

_Which one of us are you speaking to? Him or myself? 8ecause I can 8e quiet and let you shout at him if you like. 8ut if you're shouting at me, then I might as well answer you, yes?_

Her voice echoes in your mind and your sewn lips curl into a sneer.

_MEDDLESOME._

_You know what's actually irritating? Him. Have you heard him open his mouth? He's a8solutely repugnant. Possibly even worse than you when you used to speak._

_YOU FORGET YOUR PLACE._

She may be strong, but strength is a relative measurement.

She's strong compared to the others from your game.

But they've always practically been wrigglers compared to you.

_I DON'T HAVE TIME TO TEACH YOU A MOTHER FUCKING LESSON RIGHT NOW._

You can see the glowing purple of your eyes reflected in Gamzee's as you force your way deeper into his mind. 

The deeper you dive, the more you can feel the youngest Makara's figurative wall break. You can feel him and his pride fall, resigned to having three people in his mind.

And you can feel  _her_  trying to weasel in behind you.

_BACK THE MOTHER FUCK OFF, PIRATE BITCH._

You muscle her out of his mind. You'll deal with that nuisance in due time. But right now, this little grub is your main focus.

His eyes are beginning to cycle through a rainbow of purples. You've never seen what your own eyes look like when you're using your chucklevoodoos; only on others.

It looks good on him.

He's better off under your control.

You continue to dig deeper, your own memories filling in with his - though they stay in your head. You've seen this before, through your own eyes. An absent lusus. Mocking friends. A fling.

And yet, this grub is  _stupid_. You dare say even more so than Mituna after his incident.

You can feel him wince at that. Oh yes, he can hear your thoughts.

_YOU ATE THE MOTHER FUCKING SLIME._

He starts to explain that he didn't know, but you force his thoughts dead.

_IT'S WASTE._

His mind's self slumps, looking like a whipped dog.

Pathetic.

How could this  _thing_  have been produced of your DNA?

Oh wait. That's right. Karkat. All of those genetics that he never understood.

You grab onto his jaw with a gloved hand, hard enough to leave immediate purple splotches in their wake. The effort forces him to stare up at you and you redouble your power over him until he's quiet and complacent. 

_YOU'RE A SHAME TO OUR BLOOD. I TRIED TO GIVE YOU A CHANCE TO SERVE OUR MIRTHFUL LORD AND REDEEM YOURSELF. BUT IT LOOKS LIKE THAT WAS A MOTHER FUCKING MISTAKE. YOU'RE AN EMBARRASSMENT._

_THEY SHOULD COWER BEFORE YOUR PRESENCE!_

"...I just wanted them to like me."

_THEY'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LIKE YOU! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO RULE THEM!_

_YOU ALMOST HAD IT RIGHT. EXACTING YOUR MOTHER FUCKING SUPERIORITY OVER THE LOWBLOODS. WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT?_

All he does is make that pathetic honking sound in response. There's an echo in the back of his mind. An explanation.

It wasn't on purpose.

_IT DOESN'T MATTER. IF YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH THE MOTHER FUCKING LOWBLOODS, I'LL TREAT YOU LIKE A LOWBLOOD._

Your grip moves from his face to his hair, pulling him up a bit more and forcing his head back, still to look at you.

_WHO WOULD HAVE EVER THOUGHT THAT A MAKARA WOULD BE ON HIS KNEES LIKE THIS. YOU. THE HIGHEST BLOOD ON LAND._

You can see the corners of his eyes bubbling with a translucent violet that mimics his blood color and it just makes you feel even more disgusted.

He's crying.

He's crying like the wretch he is and it sickens you. His age is showing as he sniffles quietly, unable to do anything more than that thanks to the control you have over his body.

_LOWBLOODS ARE ONLY GOOD FOR A FEW THINGS OTHER THAN BEING CULLED. IT'S ABOUT TIME YOU LEARN THAT, MY LITTLE BITCH._

There's a panic in his eye as he hears those words, and your pride skyrockets. You jerk his head down some, pulling him closer.

_YOU'RE NOT WORTHY OF THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS THROUGH YOUR VEINS._

His eyes close and you can feel his mind nod.

_OPEN YOUR MOTHER FUCKING MOUTH, LOWBLOOD._

There's only a slight hesitation as his lower jaw drops, lips barely parting.

He's unwilling, but the combination of your words and the hold you have on his mind have forced his hand.

You let go of his jaw for long enough to shimmy out of your purple shorts and to drop your pants down around your knees. Your bulge is already unsheathed, recoiling against the chill of the air.

It takes a little mental prodding to get Gamzee to move forward on his knees, but he has no other option. His mind is weak and brittle from his soporifics. It's no wonder Aranea took control of him so easily.

Your bulge moves, curling to slide over his lips, testing the waters before pushing further forward. You can feel him cringe back some, but your hold on his hair keeps him in place.

_I KNOW YOU'RE NOT MOTHER FUCKING STUPID, MY LITTLE BITCH. YOU'RE GOING TO DO WHAT YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO AND WRAP THAT WARM MOTHER FUCKING MOUTH AROUND MY JUNK. GOT IT?_

Like he hasn't done this before. You saw it yourself in the back of his head. He may be on the inexperienced side, but he's no first timer.

Your bulge keeps pressed against his lips while your chucklevoodoos prod him gently onward. 

_THIS IS WHAT A LOWBLOOD DOES._

_OBEY._

His mind is groggy and complacent beneath your touch. Your victims always become resigned to their fate before too long. It seems the other Makara is no exception.

Gamzee's tongue flicks out of his mouth and moves against your bulge, licking along the prehensile tip. His tongue is as long as yours was and you know exactly what you want from it.

You use your presence within his mind to direct him, a harsh yet near inaudible groan escaping your lips as he pushes his tongue inside your nook.

That's too easy, though. You can feel how much he's  _enjoying_ that - and this isn't supposed to be a reward.

_NOW TAKE THE REST OF IT._

He urks as your hips press forward, forcing his tongue out from inside your nook to try and keep your bulge from making its way down his throat. That's a little less enjoyable and taking a good bit of control from him.

It doesn't make much of a difference in the end, because even with his tongue in the way it isn't difficult for you to force your bulge against the roof of his mouth and down his throat. His body is protesting and he's straining at the bonds around his wrists and if you didn't know better, you'd say he  _doesn't_ want this.

But you can see the subtle bucking of his hips. And more importantly, you can feel the desire in the back of his mind. He's desperate and ashamed. Not that you can blame him. If you were turned on by being forced to obey, you would be ashamed too.

_SUCH A LOWBLOOD. AT LEAST YOU'RE GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO._

It's the truth.

His tongue is practically wrapped around your bulge at this point and he's sucking you eagerly. 

_DESPERATE TO MOTHER FUCKING PLEASE._

Your bulge pushes deeper, forcing the flat of his tongue down so that you can enter his tight throat. And oh, how tight it is.

You wriggle your way in, squirming to feel the tight walls constrict around you, working to either swallow you down or push you back out. But you? You just keep going further.

The desire in the back of his mind is rising. You can feel exactly what he wants and you oblige him. To an extent.

You fill his thoughts with all too vivid images of what you know he wants. All fours, your bulge deep in his nook while you pail him into the floor and he struggles to keep his grip on the stone. 

He really  _is_ a lowblood.

You've always had a bit of a thing for the lower spectrum...

He groans around the bulge stretching his lips and you can sense his desperation. Of  _course_ he wants attention. You know his nook is dripping and aching with need. His mind is practically screaming about how badly he wants  _more_.

_SELFISH BITCH. YOU THINK I'M DOING THIS FOR **YOU**?_

With more roughness than necessary, you shove your hips flush against his mouth and the rest of your bulge down his throat. He's struggling to breathe around you and it brings a mirthful smile to your scarred lips. Every time he tries to swallow or to take a breath, it only sends a shiver of pleasure through you.

Try as he might, he can't get a single breath in and even though his mind is dull and groggy, you can feel his panic setting in. But along with that panic you can feel something else:

He's only more aroused.

_DIRTY LITTLE SLUT._

Your foot presses down against his crotch and you can feel his bulge writhing against it. He'll take any friction that you'll give. But even the smallest amount of pleasure is too good for him; he's made a mockery of your shared name.

At least he's good for  _something_ , even if he's useless to your Messiah.

Both of your gloved hands clutch at the younger's hair and keep him against you. You don't mean to be moaning as much as you are, but with the entirety of your length forced into his mouth and down his throat, you realize you've never felt so  _worshipped_. 

The strangled noises from your lips keep catching against the thread keeping them close together and your own movements are growing steadily more erratic. You're so mother fucking close and you can't stand being on the edge like this. 

The palm of your hand presses against his nose to cut off any chance  of Gamzee catching his breath and your other hand grabs tightly onto his throat.

You  _want_ him to suffocate on your bulge.

And even as you rock against his mouth, you can feel his chest burning and his head getting light. The only question is if you're going to climax first or if he's going to pass out.

As your hips thrust, you know it's going to be a close call.

His desire is almost completely gone - though you know he's still dripping with need - and replaced with panic. That only serves to drive you further. Your hips are bucking, fucking his throat mercilessly until your own mind goes blank.

Your hold on his throat and nose vanishes, as well as your control of his mind. Your hands find new homes - one gripping his horn, the other holding the base of your bulge. You watch as his eyes return to normal, only to reveal that they'd been rolled back into his head.

You smile cruelly as he gasps, leaving his mouth wide open as a quick stroke or two sends you over the edge, spilling your hot purple DNA over his painted and scarred face. Your tip moves on its own, sliding back into his mouth to finish and clean itself before recoiling and hiding away.

Once you release his horn, he crumples, a messy, gasping, whining mess left to his own physical desire.

_PATHETIC._

Your shorts are back up and on your hips, as they should be.

_I'LL BE WATCHING YOU, FILTHY GRUB. IF YOU FINISH, I WILL END YOU._

You turn from him and leave him, prodding his mind gently enough to hear his inner pleas for you to return and fuck him in to the ground. A resounding no from you echos through his mind, reminding him of his place as the lowest of the highbloods.

He's not worth any more of your time - and he knows it.


End file.
